


A Splash of Colour

by TheMermaidLord



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Drabble, M/M, Malec, alec at the altar, i could have updated my other stuff but nope, like literally from the episode malec, my first-non supernatural thing, this is a short one whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-30 04:49:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6409453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMermaidLord/pseuds/TheMermaidLord
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or- If Alec had to Make the Same Choice he Made at the End of CoHF, Just a Little Bit Sooner, and a Lot More Complicated.</p>
<p>What was running through Alec's mind as he stood at that altar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Splash of Colour

**Author's Note:**

> Yep, I have some spare time to write in, and DO I continue my Supernatural stuff? OF COURSE NOT!
> 
> A drabble, mainly to get me back into writing properly again, but I figured I might as well post it. What's the worst that could happen? So yeah, you might be hearing more from me.

Magnus wore black.

A black blazer, black shirt, black trousers. Black eyeliner. The only splash of colour was the tips of his hair, dyed a shocking pink. Magnus' outfit looked like something anyone but him would wear to a funeral. His hair, however, looked like Magnus, almost a promise, Alec reflected ( _as time slowed down around him, the echoes from the door slamming still reverberating through the hall_ ), a reference to how Magnus usually was, how he would continue to be after the wedding, no matter which path Alec chose to take. Although he always had read too much into things. But then perhaps Magnus knew that. But anyway, it was Magnus, and he didn't really look like a mourner, of course. He looked how he had always been on this topic, though Alec had refused to see it. Deadly serious.

Alec felt Lydia stiffen, fractionally, beside him, the hand still holding the stele frozen. When he looked at her, he saw her as she had always been, underneath the stylised version of her he had built, a model of perfection who could just help him help his family, who certainly had no issues of her own. He saw her, a desperate woman who had agreed to his proposal already knowing that it was doomed to fail, grasping at straws that maybe, maybe, they could grow fond of each other over time. Ironically, she'd know that it was going to fall flat before he did, and knew exactly why, as well. Also ironically, this was the most beautiful she had ever been to him, radiant in gold, his last promise of a solid, certain future.

Everything about Magnus seemed to be the opposite of what Alec believed he wanted. He was confident, composed, experienced, (male), immortal. He looked at Alec, not all the way through him, it seemed, but almost, almost, and didn't smile, didn't joke, didn't try to disguise why he was here. Magnus was done demanding the answers. Now he just wanted closure, and he knew he didn't need to ask. He wasn't trying to be anything that he wasn't. He wasn't trying to regain any form of composure. He was, in all honesty, the complete opposite of the girl standing next to him- his fiancée.

He was everything that Alec recognised that he wanted.

The warlock stood there, in black and neon, accepting whatever was to come.

The shadowhunter stood there, everything that it would have been _so much easier_ for Alec to want, no longer trying to delude herself about it.

One promised confusion. Confusion and uncertainty and passion and a chance, finally, _to mean something._

One represented stability, and his love for his family. His family who brought this on themselves, who seemed to care more about their _name_ than the happiness of everyone who owned it.

They were asking him to choose. _He_ was asking _himself_ to choose.

Before anyone had even said anything, before anyone except the three of them (and _just maybe_ Isabelle) had even realised what was going on, Alec knew that there was no choice at all.

**Author's Note:**

> i'd probably kill a man for some constructive criticism


End file.
